From Graves Forgotten
by auorakem
Summary: "All houses wherein men have lived and died are haunted houses."
1. Chapter 1

_"And as the moon from some dark gate of cloud_

_Throws o'er the sea a floating bridge of light,_

_Across whose trembling planks our fancies crowd_

_Into the realm of mystery and night,—_

_So from the world of spirits there descends_

_A bridge of light, connecting it with this,_

_O'er whose unsteady floor, that sways and bends,_

_Wander our thoughts above the dark abyss." _- Henry Wadsworth Longfellow, "Haunted Houses"

* * *

The Mason House on Folletto Lane was that place in town everyone subconsciously avoided. You know those houses that give you the creeps for some reason you just can't explain. Every town has one. People walk on the opposite side of the street to avoid walking too close. Dogs' hackles rise as they pass by. If a kid's ball ends up on the lawn, it's never seen again. The usual stuff.

Of course, the stories didn't help the house's reputation much either.

It was recorded that the house was first purchased in 1926 by John and Catherine Mason. The Mason's had a child that had been kidnapped shortly after the move, causing an incredible amount of paranoia throughout the neighborhood. The Great Depression hit the Mason's hard and after an argument one night, John committed murder-suicide by killing Catherine and shortly after, himself. The house was subsequently sold to and bought by various people who never stayed for more than six months, claiming they would hear unusual noises coming from the room which used to be a nursery. With a severe lack of prospective buyers, the house eventually fell into disrepair and became abandoned completely.

* * *

"So, are you excited for your last day of school?" Sarah glanced over at the passenger seat where her younger brother sat gazing silently out the window. Since she returned home a few days ago, Toby had been unusually reserved. He spoke very little, and when he was home, he spent his time in his room. Karen chalked it up to "puperty" and Robert apparently didn't notice anything was different, but Sarah couldn't help but feel that something was bothering him.

"I guess," Toby answered. He turned his attention back to the window and they were left with only the low humming of the engine to fill the silence.

Sarah sighed inwardly at Toby's response. She hoped Karen was correct in assuming his introverted state was only a phase. When visiting her family during the summer, she and Toby always got on great. They would go watch cheesy sci-fi movies at the local theater and visit fairs and go on all the rides until one of them got too dizzy or sick. From the looks of it, Toby didn't seem to be up to their regular entertainment activities. It was going to be a long summer.

As the car turned the corner, Sarah noticed Toby sitting upright in his seat like he was watching for something.

"Sarah," he asked, still staring intently out the window, "what do you know about the Mason House?"

The question was innocent enough. The younger kids in the neighborhood were always fascinated by the mysterious house and the tales that surrounded it. Sarah remembered when she was his age how kids would dare each other to ring the doorbell and tell elaborate stories of their own makings about the house. She was sure the stories had become even more fantastical since her time and wondered what new tales the kids had concocted.

"Well, I probably know about as much as everyone else. The Mason's baby was kidnapped, and afterwards the father ended up killing his wife and then himself."

"Do you believe in ghosts?" The question surprised Sarah, causing her to hesitate.

"No. No, not in ghosts." Her answer prompted Toby to turn and look at her questioningly as if there was some hidden or double meaning to what she said. "Why the sudden interest in the supernatural anyway? Not planning to contact the dead are we?" The comment had the opposite effect of what Sarah had intended, and Toby quickly retreated back into himself.

"No."

His answer effectively brought the conversation back to a lull.

As they pulled up to the school, Sarah attempted to reach out to her brother once more.

"Hey," she spoke, softly placing her hand on his shoulder, "sorry I teased you."

"It's okay," he said with a shrug.

"It's not actually. Karen used to mock me for my interest in fantasy. Still does on occasion. And I should know better. Sorry."

Toby gave her a small smile. "You worry too much." He turned and climbed out of the car, shutting the door on his way out.

Sarah watched him as he walked onto the campus and disappeared into the throngs of junior high adolescence, then started back home, still berating herself for her careless words and feeling that Toby only consoled her for her own sake.

* * *

An early summer storm poured down as Sarah ran out of her car and headed for the cover of her porch. Lightning lit the sky and illuminated her path while she dashed up the stairs and burst through the door in a flurry of wet hair and clothes.

_One one-thousand_

Sarah walked through the house, leaving a trail of water droplets in her wake on the way to the kitchen.

_Two one-thousand_

She went straight for the coffee pot, but seeing that it was empty, quickly set out to brew a new batch.

_Three one-thousand_

Her craving for caffeine dominated her every move, causing her overlook the flashing red light on the answering machine.

_Four one-thousand_

Thunder roared, penetrating the walls and echoing throughout the house, while the power shut off simultaneously, emerging Sarah in complete darkness.

"Dammit," she cried in a caffeine-deprived rage. Outside the wind howled and rain pelted the windows in loud, heavy splatters. Sarah could feel a migraine coming on and raised her fingers to her temples in an attempt to ease the dull throbbing with careful kneading.

Her clothes clung to her body; the thin cotton shirt plastered to her frame and jeans stuck to her legs, heavy with water. Chills begun to set in, triggering uncontrollable shivering and goose bumps, the only remedy being a long, hot shower. Unfortunately, with the power out she would have to be flexible on the 'long' part.

Sarah padded up to her room, making soft squishing noises while stripping off her uncomfortable garments in the process. After wrestling out of her pants and tossing them into the laundry basket with the rest of her clothing items, she grabbed her toiletries and headed for her much anticipated shower.

It took a few moments for the water to turn hot, but when it hit her, she hissed in pain and then exhaled in relief as the heat expelled all trace of chill from her body. She stood still under the stream of water, letting it rush over her and soothe her tense muscles. The heat had a drowsing effect on her and she strained to keep her eyes open, but the hot water tank soon emptied and she had no choice but to abandon her steam-filled sanctuary for the bitter cool air of the bathroom.

After switching her damp robe for a pair of sweats, Sarah made her way down the stairs, careful to avoid falling in the darkness of the house. The last thing she needed was to break her neck. And she could just imagine her parents reaction. Her father would be silent with worry and Karen would give her endless grief about her carelessness and lack of responsibility.

Now that she thought about it, she should probably light a few candles, especially since she already banged her knee and stubbed her toe in the short time the electricity had been off. She was sure the next accident would be fatal. But instead of candles, Sarah lit a fire in the fireplace, giving her light as well as warmth—two birds with one stone.

Sarah sat across from the fireplace on the comfy leather couch she had come to love before she had moved out. It reminded her that she needed to replace that horrid floral thing she had in her own apartment that served as a clothes rack. As her mind trailed through a list of other changes she needed to make to her apartment—from buying new drapes to repairing the dishwasher—the couch begun to drag her down, forming to the shape her body and pulling her from consciousness till the only thing on her mind was the soft crackling of the fire and then nothing at all.

* * *

She could hear something—a far off ringing noise that was drawing her out of the embrace of darkness where no thought, pleasant or otherwise, could reach her. But the darkness quickly loosened its hold upon her as she realized the ringing was a telephone.

Sarah bounded up off the couch and raced for the handheld set, located in the kitchen.

_Hello, Williams residence. Please leave-_

Sarah cut off the machine before it could deliver the rest of what was sure to be a typical greeting with the usual humdrum people usually recorded. "Hello?"

"Sarah! We have been calling you repeatedly for hours. _What_ is going on?" Karen's voice was shrill, causing Sarah to wince in pain and confusion as she was still trying to piece reality back together after waking from her slumber.

"Um... sorry. I must have left my cell in the car after dropping Toby off."

A dramatic sigh laced with disappointed undertones filled the receiver. "You need to be more responsible. What if there had been an emergency? What would you have done then, hmm?" Sarah stifled a groan at her stepmother's lecturing. It took every ounce of her will to bite back that cheeky retort lingering at the tip of her tongue, which would only lead to a whole other manner of arguments. "I called the house and left a message, and when I tried again I couldn't get through. You didn't unplug the phone did you? Do you have someone over? You know how I feel about you having people over when we're not there-"

"Karen," Sarah spoke over her, "there's a storm. It knocked the power out a few hours ago, and it must have come back on while I was sleeping. That's why you couldn't get ahold of me and why I didn't get any of your messages."

"Well, I certainly hope you didn't let your brother walk home in that. Actually, I was calling to see if you could pick him up, but since I couldn't get ahold of you I suppose that didn't happen." Despite there being a thunder storm—the entire cause for this lack of communication—the implication was clear: it was Sarah's fault. As if she could control the damn weather and had made it so Karen herself couldn't get through from two states over just to spite her. Yes, definitely her doing. "So is he there? I'd like to speak to him. Poor dear must be drenched walking home in the rain. You'll have to make him some soup and give him that herbal medicine I have in the cabinet, so he won't catch a cold."

"It hasn't rained for a while now," Sarah said, peering out the kitchen curtains and onto the patio. The ground was dry, indicating the rain stopped some time ago, but the sky was still heavy with swirling storm clouds. "Do you know what time it is?"

"Why- Sarah, did you even hear a word I just said?"

"The clocks are all wrong, and if it isn't too late I can pick up Toby on his way home because he isn't here yet," she spoke, ignoring the older woman's chastising.

Karen was quiet. Sarah assumed that she was checking the time like she asked her to do, but when her stepmother answered it was with shaking breath.

"Toby isn't home." It was a statement, not a question.

"Not yet, no," Sarah responded carefully. "Karen, what's wrong?"

"Oh, it's nothing," she dismissed, the wavering in her voice still apparent. "I'm just overreacting. It's only been," Sarah could hear Karen fiddling with her designer rose gold watch with a mother of pearl dial that Robert had given to her on their first anniversary. It was too big, but Karen wouldn't let him take it back to get it resized. More fashionable to have it dangling around her wrist than cutting off the circulation, she'd say. "...it's only been thirty minutes since he got out," she finished. Sarah had no doubt the woman was overreacting—that was her speciality—but for some reason Sarah decided to indulge her seeing as Toby's behavior of late was troubling and a reasonable cause for concern.

"Karen! What. Is. Wrong," Sarah said, emphasizing each word to get her frustration across. Her stepmother exhaled in resignation, sensing her stepdaughter's limited patience.

"It's just that a few weeks ago one of Toby's friends, the Johnson's kid, went into that awful house on Folletto Lane and broke his leg after falling halfway through some rotting floorboards. It was a mess. The fire department had to free him and the entire neighborhood was out watching him being carted off in an ambulance. Toby said he had been dared to go inside by one of the older kids. I guess it's a sort of rite of passage for the sixth graders, and I'm just worried someone might pressure Toby into doing the same thing. Not that Toby would do something like that. He's much too responsible to get involved with that sort of thing. Besides, it usually takes him about an hour to get home. He likes to talk with his friends, so there's really no need to worry." Sarah wasn't sure who Karen was trying to convince, but if she had to go off something this whole thing with the Mason House could explain why Toby had been so withdrawn lately. The peer pressure could be getting to him, and that's not to say he hasn't been bullied for resisting—if he is resisting. Their conversation earlier proved Toby was obviously interested in the house. And why ask about ghosts if he wasn't thinking about going into the house.

_Oh god, he's going into that house. Karen's going to kill me._

Sarah quickly went through her best possible options. Karen said that it takes Toby around an hour to get home from school. Based on her experience it's only a thirty-five minute walk, so he must use the first twenty-five minutes to talk with friends, and since it's only a little past three thirty he should be on his way home right now. Her best course of action would be to intercept him. The route from the school to their house is almost a straight shot, so she should have no trouble finding him. Unless he went into the Mason House. And if he is in the house, well, let's just say being wished away to the goblins would be getting off easy for him.

"Just make sure to call when he gets home, all right."

"Yeah, I will. Don't worry, Karen. I'm sure he'll be home any minute," Sarah answered, trying not to seem hurried.

"Okay. Don't forget."

"I won't. Bye." Sarah didn't wait for Karen's response. She hung up, grabbed her keys off the kitchen counter, and raced out the door to her car.

* * *

Outside, the wind was savage. It blew and it wailed. Inside the car its cries were muted. But like a child seeking attention, the wind did its best to make itself known by jarring the car off course, forcing Sarah to have to wrestle for control of the wheel. Two trees and a fence had already been subjected to the wind's fit of rage, and more and more people sought shelter from its ill temper till the streets and sidewalks were devoid of all life.

Sarah had twice now driven from her house to the school and even down other routes and gone back home trying to find Toby. She was now sitting in her car, which was parked outside the Mason House, attempting to calm herself. Knowing that if she burst through the door in a righteous fury, there was no way it was going to end well. Toby would most likely shun her as the deranged older sister (who's not really related to him because they don't have the same mom), and their relationship would come to a definite halt. No, she would have to handle this sensibly. She wasn't going to let something as petty as this situation cause an estrangement between them. To be completely honest she wasn't even that angry about him going into the house. That worry belonged to Karen. Sarah knew kids did this sort of thing. Hell, just a few months ago her and some old college friends broke into a shack up at a lake, got drunk then proceeded to go skinny dipping in the water. Who was she to judge? What upset her was that Toby didn't bother to tell her what was going on. All he had to do was say, "Hey, I'm gonna go into that old haunted house. You know the one you pass on the way to my school. Cover for me if mom calls," and that would be the end of it. He didn't even bother to tell her where he was, when he knew she was responsible for him, and if something happened she would be unfairly blamed for it.

Sarah, finally resigning herself to the role of adult guardian, climbed out of her 1998 forest green Jeep Cherokee and headed up the path that lead to the Mason House.

The ground was made up of water-soaked gravel that crunched under her every step. Dead grass and withered plants bordered the path, long forgotten with the rest of the house. Trees littered the yard with their bare branches, shrouding the house from view. Compared with the neighbor's trees, bursting with color and life after having just blossomed, the Mason House was eerie and gruesome. Now that she was here, Sarah was reminded exactly why this place inspired such fascination and macabre tales.

As she neared the entrance, the trees slowly opened up allowing for a better visualization of the residence.

The house was impressive. A three story Victorian manor with a wrap around porch complete with stained glass windows. It was made of the finest oak money could buy and painted an elegant shade of navy. The porch was fitted with classic Doric columns that were wrapped in ivy, giving off an air of sophistication. Lastly were the windows, handcrafted in Venice and then shipped overseas. It had been a magnificent structure. But time took its toll on the house as it does with all things of this world. The wood was now rotting and the once pristine paint job had become faded and discolored. The porch had recently collapsed in on itself and been overrun with ivy to the point where you could no longer make out the flooring. The windows had been boarded up in the fifties after kids started throwing rocks at them for sport, remnants of shards still lingering around the edges.

The doors were what really gave the house its imposing air. Standing at eight feet tall and black as night, they were enough to send any child running away in terror. Its panels were inlaid with bronze and the knockers were made of brass.

The knockers were exceptionally strange. They were a pair of faces, unalike in shape or guise, but identical in their grotesque appearance. When Sarah was close enough, she recoiled at the sight of them.

Every facet, every feature was exact. She was sure of it. So much, in fact, it was a wonder they didn't start speaking. It had to be some kind of coincidence. Although she racked her brain for plausible explanations, she could come up with nothing. Perhaps she was hallucinating. Yes, that was it. She must be more worried about Toby than she thought. Just a symptom of anxiety. Nothing to get all worked up over. They were a pair of knockers for christ's sake.

The more she tried to convince herself of the knockers irrelevance, the more troubled she became about them. Sarah hadn't encountered anything remotely associated with the Labyrinth since her run, and now here she was face to face with figures taken straight from that night. She could handle this two ways: continue to believe that the knockers' presence was only coincidence or acknowledge that both her and Toby's involvement with this house and the sudden appearance of the knockers was more than chance. If the later, entering the house meant more than she had anticipated.

Like the knockers, the handles were too made of brass, and when Sarah tried to turn them they wouldn't budge.

This sort of hindrance would generally discourage others. They would see it as sign for them not to enter. An omen to warn them of the impending doom they would be subjected to if they were to enter.

Sarah simply took it in stride.

Reaching for the portly goblin, she grabbed its ring and slammed it three times against the door. As expected, the left door creaked opened allowing her entrance. If she hadn't been so tense, she would have smiled.

Once inside, Sarah breathed a sigh of relief. She was sure that when she walked through the door she would find herself on a hill, overlooking a structure of complex configuration and immense size, encompassed by an orange-tinted sky and holding a contorted, misshapen castle at its center. Instead, she was greeted with thick layers of dust that covered every surface and filled the air in a dense cloud of dirt with each step she took. Cobwebs hung from the ceiling, what little light entered through the windows, reflecting off them. The foyer lead straight to the main sitting room, and except for a few broken chairs there was no furniture she could see. The wallpaper was fading and coated in large, dark stains, and peeling in several places exposing the hardwood underneath. Places where paintings and other decor once hung were now bare, unaffected by the elements as opposed to the rest of the house, and adorned the walls like inverse shadows.

At the base of the staircase was a large hole. Its edges were rotted and splintered. Looking down into it you could see the foundations of the house along with rusted nails and rat droppings.

_This must be were that boy fell through the floor_, Sarah mused, prompting an inspection for the safest route around.

As she considered hoisting herself over the railing, a noise broke through her concentration. She looked up, certain it came from the floor overhead and waited to see if she could hear it again.

When it came, Sarah wasn't sure what to make of it. She wasn't much of a cat person, but if she had to guess, she would've said that there was a stray on the second floor. The third time the noise started, she was pretty confident that the sounds were scratchings being made by a cat. After that, Sarah ignored the noise and went back to trying to figure out how best to get up the stairs without killing herself.

Remembering her earlier idea about climbing over the banister, Sarah thought she might as well give it a shot. She walked over to the side of the staircase where it wasn't too high up and gripped the balustrade so she could pull herself up and over to the other side. As soon as she let her weight off the ground, the railing broke off in her hands and sent her flying back. There was no time to feel any of the pain because when she hit the floor, high-pitched cackling broke out and it was coming from above.

She was up instantly.

"Toby!" Sarah called out, her voice resonating throughout the house. When she didn't receive an answer she tried the railing again, this time careful to test her weight. Throwing one leg over, then the other, she was finally on the stairs and began taking them one at a time in case any decided to give way.

Sarah was currently operating under the impression that Toby and his friends were on the second floor of the Mason House, watching her and were the ones who laughed when she fell.

Unfortunately for Sarah, she was wrong.

Her fall had caused her to panic and in her state of instability, she forgot about seeing the knockers outside and what that might mean for her. This resulted in her sudden short-term memory loss and the delusion that there were not and in no way could there be any goblins in this house. But when she reached the top of the stairs any misapprehension she had vanished.

In most houses when you go up to a different floor, you are presented with a hallway that might give you the option of going left or right or both. This house did give the occupants that choice, but similarly with many houses their hallways also contain doors that open to different rooms; this house didn't. Not a single door lined the hall, which not only struck her as odd as well as unbelievable because she could have sworn she had seen windows on second floor before coming inside the house. And if the absence of doors wasn't enough to disturb her, compared to the first floor this hallway was pristine.

There wasn't a single speck of dust to be seen. Unlike the dingy, worn wallpaper downstairs, the wallpaper up here was slick and flawless. Even the floorboards looked as if they had just been oiled.

Quickly grasping her situation wasn't as simple as she thought it would be, Sarah turned away intending to go back downstairs to search for Toby there.

Instead, she ran headlong into the wall.

"Shit." Again laughter rang out making her grimace in annoyance as well as pain. Upon opening her eyes she discovered what proceeded to be a pang of true fear. The stairs were gone. Whirling around in all directions she realized that she was trapped. "No. No. No. No. Not again!" All rationality deserted her, leaving her pounding the walls in desperation. Shrill shrieks of laughter persisted, feeding off her despair, but she could hear none of it.

Not long after her run, Sarah began experiencing nightmares. Her dreams became filled with small savage beasts that tore her to shreds. Angry insects would chase her down, biting her till she woke up screaming. There was even a dream that involved her slowly drowning in water that smelled so awful she would swear the dream was real.

One other dream she had on multiple occasions, but she was never sure if she could classify it under "nightmare."

In it she was exploring a room. It was a beautiful room. The walls were draped in silk. The air smelled of sugar and fruit. And there was music. Always the same song. It would play over and over and over again, but the notes were faint and the voice was distant, so she could never quite make it out. It always ended the same too. She would find herself standing in front of a mirror, dressed in the most magnificent dress with ribbons and jewels in her hair. While admiring herself, she would notice someone standing behind her. He was always hiding behind a mask, watching her. She'd ask him his name, but he wouldn't answer—never did. Though eventually he would lower his mask to reveal his face, and then the mirror would shatter and she'd wake.

It got to the point where the dreams were so severe she refused to sleep and her grades dropped as a result. Her parents, not knowing what to do, sent her to a psychiatrist, Dr. Engelberg. She was nice enough. Listened to her. Put up with her drama. Even made her feel better about some insecurities she had as a teenager. _But she never believed her_. When she talked about the labyrinth, Sarah always felt like some kind of test subject who's level of sanity was always being measured by how much she lied. She could tell the doctor was trying though, but when she started referring to her friends as imaginary, Sarah eventually stopped confiding in her with anything Labyrinth related.

Sarah wasn't sure how or why the Labyrinth managed to worm its way back into her life, her world. All she knew was that she was back under its grasp, and that she had to find Toby, then get them both the hell out of here. Although, she was uncertain of just how she was going to do all that.

_One thing at a time Sarah_, she told herself. And that meant first finding Toby.

Gathering what remained of her dignity, Sarah composed herself and unwilling turned to face whatever was in store for her.

After today's earlier incidents, Sarah was becoming increasingly high-strung. So, when she saw that the hall was now lined with doors and there was no end to the corridor she could see, it took a lot for her not to scream out in shock. Instead she opted to dig her nails into the palms of her hands, not only to relieve some of the panic, but also to help remind her that this time she wasn't dreaming.

When she recovered from her initial shock, Sarah started down the hallway taking tentative steps like she was afraid the very floor would disappear from under her.

"I guess that wasn't a cat I heard," she spoke wryly. "and that definitely wasn't Toby laughing," she said with a touch less humor.

Actually, now that she thought about it, she couldn't believe that she had been so oblivious as not to recognize goblins when she heard them. She could recall the distinct sound of their voices and how the air smelt like a mixture of wet dog and burnt toast whenever they were near. That she missed these hints confounded her. They were so glaringly obvious. She remembered first going into the house and detecting an odd odor. Then there was the scratching and the laughter. She hadn't heard noises like that since that night and no human could make those kinds of sounds. Everything pointed to goblins, she just refused to take notice. Maybe she was repressing. Like some kind of survival instinct. Obviously she was having some difficulty coming to terms with this new situation and her brain decided to go 'Hey, there's some weird stuff going on. I'm gonna go over here. You take your time dealing with it. Holla if you need me. Later.'

To pass the time, Sarah continued to consider reasons why her rationality might have failed her in her time of crisis. But eventually her attention was shifted from one diversion to another.

When she started down the hall, there were identical doors on each side. They were the same color, size, and width apart. Though Sarah would notice that every so often there would be something off about one of the doors. Simple things. Things that you would have to pay extra attention to see. One would be too wide. One would be too small. One would be a shade darker than the others.

Then their differences started becoming more noticeable. One would have no door knob. Another would have two door knobs. One was even an entirely different color from the rest. The doors started changing shape too. She passed one shaped as a large blue triangle, opposite to a round, green one. There was also a red rectangular one, but it was positioned sideways so that if you wanted to get through it, you would have to climb up and over into it. Another door was so tiny Sarah wasn't sure if she could get two fingers inside it. Originally the doors were all made of the same wood. The longer she walked, the more she noticed doors made of oak or chestnut instead of mahogany. Some wouldn't be made out of wood at all, but of metals like bronze, copper, and brass.

Eventually, there came a point where not a single door resembled the originals. One in particular caught Sarah's attention.

She was drawn to it. Not because of it shape or size, but because it was made entirely out of ice. Even curiouser was that it wasn't melting. Not a single droplet of water surrounded it. In fact, the door seemed as if it were somehow sustaining itself. Sarah approach it warily, making sure not to let the ice touch her flesh. As she inched closer she realized that the door was not just some block of ice. It had intricate details carved into its very surface, so beautiful Sarah had to regretfully remind herself not to trace the patterns with her fingertips. Small swirls began and then expanded, morphing into flowers and small creatures she had never seen the like of. The handle was also made of ice, which was woven so delicately, it was as if someone had bent the water to their will then frozen it in a single instant.

While studying the door, Sarah noticed small transparent regions in the ice allowing her to see through to the other side. Peering through a larger section she found in the middle, Sarah thought she could make out a faint, orange glow. In an attempt to get a better look she moved as close as she could until her nose was only a hair's breadth away from the icy door. But as Sarah was looking past the ice, she saw a gigantic, dark shape run past her line of vision, dimming the light on the other side of the door for only a moment. In her horror she reeled back, crashing into the opposite side of the hall and clamped her hands over her mouth to prevent herself from screaming.

With hands still tightly clasped around her mouth, Sarah slowly slid her body down the wall until she sat in a fetal position and watched as a small shadow in the ice grew so large that it became impossible to discern what it was or its true size.

She dared not move or breathe.

The shadow began to sniff at the base of the door, causing particles of ice to billow out around it. Sarah shut her eyes and hid her head between her knees, begging that whatever was behind the door wouldn't catch her scent. When it seemed her luck might have deserted her, Sarah noticed it had gone quiet and lifted her head to see the shadow shrinking in size and then disappear completely.

Releasing her hands from her mouth, she let out a choked sob. Relief quickly spread through her like fire and she couldn't help that small smile that formed on her lips as she tipped her head back against the wall.

The aftereffects of relief didn't last long. Sarah reminded herself that she needed to find Toby and get him home, and she wasn't going to do that sitting huddled in a hallway.

She sighed and tilted her head forward just in time to catch the shadow growing at a rapid rate and then hear a howl of pain accompanied by the cracking of ice.

Sarah wasted no time scrambling to her feet and dashing down the hall.

There were no turns or any means of escape if that thing managed to break through the ice—except for the doors. Considering her limited options, Sarah decided a door was her only choice. And just after she threw open a small brown one, she could hear the crashing of ice on hardwood as she pulled the door shut behind her.

* * *

**_A/N: This was written for the labyfic community Challenge #13, Spooky Goings-On. I'm almost done with the second part, just fleshing it out a bit more and making the story more consistent. Shouldn't take long, but I might work faster if you review. I'd like to see what anyone thinks might happen. Will it in end in tears, laughter, or blood? Muahahaha!_**

_**Disclaimer: I own nothing, not even a creepy old house filled with goblins and endless hallways****—pity**_


	2. Chapter 2

Don't let it fool you

_Don't let it fool you...down_

_Dancing round, folds in the gown _- Bon Iver & St. Vincent, "Rosyln"

* * *

She couldn't see a thing. The sun was glaring, high in the sky and it was the first thing to greet her.

After just having left the gloom of the house, her pupils dilated too quickly and Sarah immediately shielded her eyes from the light by turning back towards the door—which, unfortunately, did not provide much in terms of shade. However, her current problem was not to do with her eyes, but with the monster on other side of the doorway.

Sarah put her ear to the wood of the door, listening for any indication the creature was on the other side. When she didn't hear anything, she thought it had passed by. Though, Sarah thought it best not to assume anything for fear she might be wrong.

Little by little her eyes grew used to the light. From behind the shadows of her eyelids, the rays of the sun would enter boldly without any care for courtesy. She squinted through her lashes, the shimmering air stinging her eyes with a glaring brilliance that transformed everything she saw into a blur of nothingness. Sunspots danced wildly across her vision, performing with an enthusiasm that left her dazzled by their display. The light blazed, covering all it touched in a cloak of white heat, making it impossible to discern earth from sky. But eventually the heavens broke from its embrace of the earth, leaving the landscape glowing—a searing reminder of their union.

It took her all of two seconds to wish she had never gotten her sight back.

She was in the middle of a desert, and there was no end to it she could see. The sand went on for miles, forming small hills and shallow valleys. The air was dry, riding her mouth and throat of all moisture. Already beads of sweat were forming on her brow and under her clothes to cool her body from the high temperature.

"Great," she grumbled through clenched teeth. She was stuck.

Sarah immediately grabbed the door like it would vanish in an instant. There was no way she was letting go. The moment she took her hands off it, it would probably vanish. Going back into the house wasn't much of an option either. That thing could be right outside the door for all she knew. For now, she would just have to wait.

Sarah hoped Toby was okay. Wherever he was, she only wanted him to be safe. She was afraid that he might have gone through one of the doors and ended up some place like she was, or worse, that he might have run into that monster. Suddenly, she was feeling nauseous and wasn't from the heat.

Making sure not to let go of the door knob, Sarah sat down in the sand, her legs thanking her for the respite.

If something happened to her brother she wouldn't know what she would do. Yeah, okay, she and Karen still didn't along perfectly, but her stepmother would be devastated and her father would be heartbroken. Sarah couldn't imagine her own reaction, and she didn't want to. She didn't want to think about what would happen if Toby got hurt. It wasn't going to happen. She wouldn't let it.

Slowly, but surely, the heat began to take its toll. Her shirt was soaked in sweat. Her hair was sticking to the sides of her face and the back of her neck. Every so often when one arm started cramping up or the knob would become to hot to hold, she would switch hands that held the door's handle. Besides the obvious and unpleasant warmth, which she was trying to ignore, Sarah was becoming intensely aware her growing hunger and lack of water. Her stomach was growling so loud she was sure that if that creature was on the other side of the door it would be able to hear her.

Maybe it was the dehydration or the hunger, or it could be the heat that caused the dehydration. Perhaps it was all three. Off in the distance, she spotted something. A green something. She had a hard time making it out. It was far and it was so hot and she just wanted something cool to drink. She fell asleep staring at it. When she woke up, it had moved closer. No, that wasn't right. She must be more tired than thought. After waking up a second time she stared at it lazily. Yes, it was definitely closer. Or was she getting closer to it? She surveyed her surroundings trying to find some indication that she and the door had managed to move from their original spot. There was nothing. No marks in the sand to suggest any movement on their part. She frowned and went back to staring at it. The third time she woke, she was able to see the leaves of the trees that hung heavy with fruit and make out the tall grass surrounding the clear water that sparkled seductively in the sunlight.

Sarah had forgotten how beautiful water was. She wondered if it tasted as refreshing as it looked. And was it just her, or could she smell the fruit from here? It was a sweet, biting scent that caused her stomach to writhe in pain. She could just imagine how it would feel to take one of those fruits, bite into it and have its savory juice fill her mouth with sugary tang.

As these thoughts raced through her head, something at the farthest corner of her mind was stirring. It was in that place where people usually store those vital memories that contain information of the utmost importance. She couldn't quite reach it though. However, Sarah wasn't one to ignore her instincts. They had gotten her out of less than desirable situations and through some rough times. In her case, it was always the better bet to trust them, so trust them she did.

Not that it was easy. All reason told her she was in the middle of a scorching hot desert with no food or water, except for the small oasis just waiting for her like an unwrapped present under the tree on Christmas morning, and not to take advantage of that would be insane.

Slowly rising up, she did her best not to look at the watering hole for fear she might give into temptation. Sarah knew she needed to get out of this place fast. There was something wrong with it. In spite of the seemingly earth-like terrain, she was beginning to doubt that she was even in her own world. The sand was too soft and the sun was too bright. It had worked well enough for a quick escape, but now it was time to leave.

She gradually turned the handle bit by bit, partially to refrain from making any noise that might attract attention, and partially because she was worried that it might not open and wanted to delay that possibility as long as she could.

Luckily for her that wasn't an issue.

The door opened and she let it crack wide enough to see if the coast was clear. When Sarah was sure that it was safe, she stepped over the threshold, taking care not to look back.

The moment she entered the hallway all trace of dehydration was gone. Even her previous hunger had left her. Her mind had become clearer too—more focused—like a thick fog had been lifted. She suddenly realized that place had her under some kind of enchantment. All those things she had been feeling and seeing were only a trick to keep her there. Furious, she turned on her heel and started down the hallway.

She had no idea how long she had been in that place. There were no windows in the hall, only doors; no way to tell if it was still day or the sun had passed below the earth, covering the world in darkness. Time she could have spent searching for Toby had been wasted in there and Sarah cursed herself. She knew none of this was her fault, but she just couldn't help feeling like she could have done something to prevent this all from happening. It was pointless for her to consider such things, though. She had no control over this situation. It was what it was, and the only thing she could do was to keep on until it was over.

As Sarah walked past each door she would notice they were not only becoming more unusual, but downright weird. She passed one door that had the roots of a tree creeping out of the walls, through the floors and up into the ceiling. One was only half her height and made of some flimsy cardboard. Another was designed to look like a larger version of a Queen of Hearts playing card, and had fresh red paint that was seeping down its surface. A door that was a gigantic head of a wolf, opened its jaw for Sarah to enter when she was close enough. One was made of pure gold. It rose to the ceiling in two separate segments, decorated with an elaborate framework of foliage and fruit. Relief panels held scenes of peaceful bliss with a whole manner of creatures, living in a narrative that prized harmony, happiness, and all that was good in life. The metal glowed with warm light all its own, and Sarah never quite felt anything like the sense of tranquility that passed over her when she walked by. Across the hall was its opposite. Alike in dimension and structure, it was ever the foil to its counterpart. Instead of panels to represent order, the door was designed in an arrangement that upheld chaos. Figures of tormented humans were molded into the exterior of the door. Their nude bodies writhed and twisted in poses that expressed ultimate suffering. Their faces contorted in pain and agony. Their eyes shone out with heartbreaking despair. Sinewy arms were cast forward, breaking away from the facade, hands reaching for an escape that was not to come. The bronze captured the life of these high relief figures so well it was if their very souls had been melded into the door, and Sarah could barely stand to look at it.

She didn't allow herself much time to study the doors. Most weren't that interesting anyway and others gave her the creeps, so she'd just avoid looking at them all together. But there were some so unique and so captivating she would become distracted and have to tear herself away from them.

While admiring a door made up entirely of flowers, Sarah heard something. At first she couldn't be sure what it was or if she was hearing anything at all. It would drift faintly in and out of her consciousness, teasing her, never allowing her to quite make it out.

Sarah walked down the hall, ignoring the doors completely, focusing on the noise. Gradually, it got louder and she recognized she was hearing notes and that the noise wasn't noise. It was music.

The farther she walked, the louder the music got. Still it was only barely discernible. She thought it might be coming from one of the doors and started opening them to make sure.

She opened a door made of solid rock with water seeping through it just by putting her hand to its surface and found herself looking into an endless ocean. There was a door made of hanging beads and when she pulled them back she saw people with odd-shaped faces and strange clothes, drinking and dancing. When she found a door made of fur, she was allowed entrance after running her fingers through it and on the other side were small, round creatures, lazing in tall fields of grass. A door made of lava had heat coming off it so unbearable she couldn't get anywhere near and had to run past.

Most doors she couldn't figure out how to open, but more often than not, the doors would give off a bad vibe and Sarah thought it best to stay away from those ones altogether.

After closing a door made of candies, ranging from lollipops and taffy to chocolates and toffees, Sarah wiped the stickiness onto her jeans and headed for another door. She went over to one that was about a foot shorter than her and made of ivory with embellishments carved into its surface. But before she could open it, another door caught her eye.

When she got close enough, her heart stopped. It looked like the door made of ice. But that couldn't be right, she remembered it shattering. She couldn't be completely sure of that though. Even if she did heard the door shatter, it didn't necessarily mean it did. Just as the Labyrinth had done long ago, this place had a way of messing with your mind.

Upon moving closer she noticed that the music she had been hearing was getting louder, and saw that the door was not made of ice, but of crystal.

When she was standing in front of the door, Sarah chastised herself for ever thinking it could come close to resembling the one made of ice. This one was far superior. It was made of pure crystal and had no fallacies in the stone she could see. The door protruded from the wall like a funhouse mirror, and rose high above her almost touching the ceiling—but not quite. Delicate silver patterns bordered the door, lapping over each other in maze-like configurations, never beginning and never-ending.

Sarah was positive the music was coming from this particular door. Just to be certain she put her ear to it and listened. The moment her head touched the crystal, the music swelled. She could hear every note, every inflection. The music was penetrating her very being. If she opened the door she didn't think she'd be able to bear the intensity of the sound.

It didn't take long for her to recognize what she was hearing was a song, And it was a song she was very familiar with.

She first heard the song in a dream from years, long past that now only live in memory. But the music was muted then. She'd be able to catch a few notes, nothing more, and they'd play in her head in disorganized shambles. So when she could finally hear the music that haunted her dreams she was mesmerized, and reached out to open the door.

The air was still. It was as if time had stopped and frozen everything in place. Glitter and broken crystal hovered, suspended motionlessly throughout the room along with other various objects. The music could no longer be heard and the silence was deafening. Sarah's blood pumped in her ears and she could feel it coursing through her veins, making her so weak that when she stepped into the room she had to catch herself before falling.

Walking through the ballroom was surreal. Logic told her it shouldn't be here; this place only existed inside her mind and her standing here, right now, couldn't be possible. She wondered if maybe she was dreaming. What if this whole thing was a dream? What if she was home on the couch in front of the fire with Toby already home, safe and sound? Karen never called to warn about him going into the house and she never went in. She didn't find any endless hallway with numerous doors, and she definitely didn't use one of them to enter into a crystal ballroom that had been wrecked in unrepairable ways. No, she was home, fast asleep, and would wake up any moment now.

But the more she observed her surroundings, the less certain she was that it was a dream.

Shards of glass were imbedded in the floor and columns. Curtains that had been ripped to pieces were floating above head. One of the walls was charred, looking as if something had exploded against it. Pillows hovered, their downy feathers spilling out, mixing with the glitter in the air. A clock had been destroyed. Splintered gold was hung scattered, strewn with gears and springs and weights.

This was nothing like her dream. Her dream was flawless, unblemished. Nothing was broken or torn, and it was warm—like walking in sunlight. It had felt more real than this place ever could.

As she explored the room, Sarah walked past a large mirror fragment that was a good eight feet in length. When she looked into it she stared at her reflection in shock. Most likely it was her fascination with the situation which made her oblivious to her change in wardrobe, though how she could have missed it perplexed her.

She was draped in an elegant, white ball gown, embellished with golden lace and jewels. Ribbons were woven through her thick, dark hair, and her throat and ears were adorned with diamonds that sparkled in the mirror. It was the outfit she wore in the dream, only it wasn't the same.

Like the ballroom, her dress was chaotic. The fabric was shredded, causing the sleeves to hang off her arms and a large piece of the gown to have fallen almost completely off, leaving it trailing behind her. The jewelry was missing stones. Her hair was flat and falling out. And she hadn't noticed before, but her feet were bare except for the dust that clung to her soles from the floor.

While she studying herself in the mirror, Sarah caught a glimpse of someone standing far off behind her. But when she turned around no one was there. She walked over to where she thought she'd saw the figure—there was nothing. No evidence to support what she saw; if she had seen anything at all.

The next time she spotted him, he was hidden in the shadows of a great column cap. When she reached the spot where he had been standing, she still could find no trace of him. The third time she almost missed him. He was obscured by a large piece of cloth that hung twisted and tattered in the air like a gigantic snake, shedding its skin. She ran over, gripping the skirts of her gown in an attempt to move faster, but with no luck. When she got there, she tore the silk from her view to find he had disappeared yet again. Only this time she found something.

Hovering, where he had stood only moments ago, was a mask.

Sarah reached out, pulling it from the air into her delicate hands. She weighed the mask finding it lighter than she imagined it would be. It was made of bronze, formed into the face of a goblin with spiraling horns protruding from the sides of its head. Its grip was gold and in the shape of a long skeleton arm with the hand connecting to the face. The harsh grooves and contours of the gruesome face were meant to inspire revulsion and abhorrence. She found it captivating.

Her fascination with the mask distracted her from the hairs that began to rise on her neck, and when she looked up, she saw him.

Unlike the dreams she had of him where everything was crisp, clear, and bright, he was now insubstantial—dull; as if she could pass right through him. He had become a mere memory. A ghost.

He walked toward her until he had her in his arms and she was surprised at how solid he felt, how real. Not that she had much experience, but she was sure you couldn't touch ghosts, much less dance with them. Sarah wasn't complaining though. He was a fine dancer. Better than fine. They way he moved them across the floor made her feel as if they were floating. She even looked down to check if they were—they weren't, but they might as well have been. Lost in a dream, they waltzed around the room, drinking in each other's presence.

He was wearing the same clothes he always wore. A midnight blue jacket encrusted with jewels, black leather boots, and silk gloves. His hair even had blue streaks in it. And his smell. His very scent was intoxicating, making her head dizzy with old dreams and forgotten dances. She started to drift off, her eyes fluttering in a daze.

"Hey," she said, shaking her head out of stupor, "you're doing something to me. Stop it." He inclined his head and smiled down at her, grudgingly impressed she caught on. Similar to what happened when stepping out of the desert, a fog lifted from her mind, all trace of lightheadedness disappearing with it.

"That's how it is here."

Sarah was so startled at finally hearing him speak it took her a moment to realize what he had said.

"So, you won't being taking any credit for that then?" Her accusation made the corners of his mouth twitch in response. "What about last time? The peach?"

"I don't recall giving you any fruit," he said with his nose in the air. She almost stomped on his foot.

"No, of course you don't." They continued to dance, her partner attempting to avoid eye contact.

Sarah didn't think she was going to get anywhere with that subject, so she tried a different approach.

"Where's Toby?"

"Not here." This time she almost smacked him.

"Obviously, he's not _here_, Goblin King. What I want to know is what you've done with him."

"Still not asking the right questions, precious," he singsonged as he spun her out and then back into his arms.

That made her pause. Her brow furrowed in frustration as she considered other ways to rephrase the question. Well, Toby wasn't in the current vicinity and the Goblin King supposedly didn't have anything to do with where he was, so what did that leave?

"How do _I_ get to Toby?"

"Mmmm. Warmer, but not quite there."

She could feel him purring, the vibrations carrying across his body and into her own. He was loving this. But his pleasure at Sarah's failing attempts only enraged her further and made her even more determined to wipe that constant smirk of arrogance off his pretty face.

"Why are you here, oh Goblin King," she mocked. "Don't you have anything better to do than mess with old enemies and steal their little brothers?"

"I'm not here." Her patience found its end and she lashed out at him.

"What is that supposed to mean? _You're not here_. I can see you. I can feel you." The last statement made him grin wide, exposing his long, pointed teeth at her. "Don't," she told him.

"How did you get here?"

"Through a door," she blurted out.

"Anything strange about this door," he responded unfazed.

"Other than it leading me here? No, not really."

"No?" He clearly knew about the hallway with the doors. In fact, Sarah wouldn't be surprised in the slightest if he had arranged for this whole thing to happen. Though how he managed to drag Toby into it was beyond her.

"Do you even know where you are?" The question caught her off guard. She assumed she was in the Labyrinth; that the Mason House had been connected to it somehow, bringing her here to the ballroom from her dreams. From the way he spoke, she doubted that was the case. And then the answer hit her.

"We're in a dream," she whispered in awe. But this couldn't be her dream. In her dreams this place was bright and beautiful—perfect. This place was torn and in ruins. It wasn't right here. Here everything was cold and strange. This wasn't a dream—it was a nightmare.

"What happened?" He stared incredulously at her as if she had just asked him her own name, then maneuvered her into a shallow dip and leaned into her to speak two words in her ear.

"You happened." He pulled her up so fast her head began to spin.

Yes, she could remember the first time she was here. She was so young then, and her naivety got the best of her. The peach had transported her here to this world, this dream. Even after reading all those fairy tales she still managed to fall for the oldest trick in the book: You never eat the fruit.

"I still don't understand. How are you not here?" He sighed dramatically like answer was the most obvious thing the world, but he indulged her all the same.

"I am a shade. A remnant of what was. What you see—the dream and myself—are all that's left. The last of the threads holding onto reality."

That would explain his appearance. She could almost see right through him. Tendrils were flowing off the edges of his form in a wispy haze, as they glided. He was like smoke she had managed to catch with her bare hands.

"If this is a dream, am I really here?"

"You misunderstand. This place is a dream and it is fading; much like I am. I can assure you, you are very much... _in the flesh_." The last word was drawn out, his hissing voice spiraling all around her, lightly stroking her skin and leaving traces of goose bumps in its wake.

She looked to where her hand was clasped in his—still solid. Like the rest of his body, his own was not so. The edges of his glove, where her hand rested, was bleeding out through her fingers, around her palm, and down her wrist; yet he remained. Sarah wondered if the same thing would happen to her if she stayed for too long. Would she slowly begin to fade and become a spectral of her own making? Or would she stay and become like the room: a broken dream, forgotten in time.

What was the point of this anyway? If he was behind Toby's disappearance and her being here, why not take them to his castle in the Labyrinth? Why make her go through the house and down the hallway, and what was with all those doors? There had to be a reason. Maybe it was just another game. Well, if it was, she getting tired of playing.

But she had a feeling it was more than that. He wouldn't have done all this just to get back Toby, would he? Toby was older now. What could he want with him? And last time, he was at least upfront about the stakes. The Goblin King claimed he didn't have Toby, and why bother lying if that's what this is about? No, this time was different. He was after something else. Someone else. She was the one that won. She solved the Labyrinth and beat its King.

Why visit an old rival, but for one thing, and one thing only.

"Why am I here?" The words were faint as they departed through parted lips, but the stillness of the room amplified their sound sending them through the air and off the walls, causing the last syllable to hover for what seemed like an eternity.

And when forever was over, Sarah wished it had lasted longer.

The look that formed on the Goblin King's face was one of such miserable self-pity, Sarah wasn't sure if she should feel sorry for him or let him continue feeling sorry for himself—since he seemed to have it down so well. But as quickly as the look appeared, it was gone and she wondered if she had only imagined it.

"You came through the door?" She nodded. "That door only leads to only one place: the gateway. It is a place that is in-between."

"In-between what?"

"Everything." Sarah gave him a disbelieving look. "The gateway is a backdoor, so to speak. It connects worlds and other things. Convenient—for travel or a quick get away."

_Or luring women into traps_, she thought.

"This is a dream though, not a world."

"I did say 'other things', did I not? And this may be your dream, but I created it. I built it with my magic. This small, fragile thing. I made it for you," he stated with no small amount of pride, "And you destroyed it."

Sarah felt chills run down her body. She had momentarily forgotten who it was she was talking to. Suddenly, she wasn't feeling very safe.

When his eyes met hers, fear filled her and all she could think of was getting as far away as possible from him.

"We can fix it though."

"What do mean _fix it_?" Sarah had a feeling she already knew the answer to her question, and she wasn't entirely certain she wanted to hear it said aloud.

"We can make this right. The dream can be remade," he said, inspecting the ballroom as if he was making a mental checklist of what needed to be repaired. "Together, we can fix this."

"I'm not staying," she declared as loud as she could, her voice cracking and high with fear.

She thought he might not have heard her, but he brought their dance to a gentle halt and looked at her, his face expressionless.

"You're not leaving," he said, his voice devoid of emotion. "Not this time. Not again. Not ever."

"I didn't ask for this," she exclaimed, pulling away from him. But he held onto her hand, gripping it fiercely, so that she couldn't get away.

"Let me go," she pleaded with him.

She could feel her mind clouding over. He had her and she knew it. Her heart beat wildly, she gasped for breath, working herself into a frenzy. Tears filled her eyes. She couldn't see.

"Fighting it will only make things worse," a voice whispered in her ear. "Give in, and I promise no harm will come to you."

Sarah stopped struggling. A single thought entered into her mind that wiped the fear from her and replaced it with absolute clarity.

_You have no power over me._

All of this, the house, the never ending halls with their endless doors, filled with things of nightmares, was just a scare tactic. She should've known earlier. He did the same thing in the Labyrinth and she cursed herself for allowing him to get the better of her again. His attempts to bend her to his will and turn her into a cowering, little girl were over. No more.

The last of the salt-filled tears fell from her lashes and streaked down her cheeks, leaving a glittering trail of black in their wake. She looked up at her foe and stared him down with cruelty in her eyes and fury etched in her face.

"Don't you dare threaten me." Her voice was calm and its strength caused his grip to falter.

"You are no match for me, Sarah." He was a broken record she suddenly felt was grating on her nerves.

"Did you forget that I won. I beat your Labyrinth, _Jareth_," she maintained, "I proved long ago I was more than your match. Don't make me do it again."

He was quiet.

They stared each other down, both unwilling to relinquish any ground.

And then he was gone.

She saw him going, fading out into nothing. It was quick. Sarah didn't know whether to feel relief or apprehension. She decided the best response would be to do what he had done, which was disappear.

She headed for the door, but before taking more than a few steps she heard a tinkling sound behind her. Thinking that the Goblin King had come back for another round, she turned back and saw shards of mirror and glass, slowly coming together to form a large mass with their sharp, glinting tips pointed right at her.

Her stomach dropped in realization and she ran. Behind her she could hear the shards zipping through the air after her, crashing into other objects, sending them flying. A candelabra spun over into her path and she glimpsed glass stuck in the wax while leaping over it.

Sarah could see the door as she raced across the room, the skirts of her dress dragging across the floor and her hair flowing out behind her. She swatted objects out her way, causing them to spin into the air, swirling glitter and dust together as she raced towards the exit. The door was so close, but it seemed to take forever to reach it. Her legs burned and her chest heaved with strain. She was so focused on getting out that she didn't feel the warm liquid run down her arms and face.

Perhaps it was her past involvement with cross country, or maybe she was one of those people who just got lucky. It didn't matter.

When she reached the door she threw it open and flung herself through, making sure to close it shut so nothing else could get out. On the other side, Sarah could hear the shattering of broken glass, and when it stopped, she allowed herself to breathe again.

"Sarah?" For a second, she thought he had followed her out, and was nearly convinced of it when she saw a flash of blonde hair out of the corner of her eye. But no. The voice wasn't deep enough, nor didn't it contain that lilting accent coated with pompous humor she had come to dread.

Standing over her was a young boy, only three inches shorter than she and growing more every day.

"Toby!" She wasted no enthusiasm as she tackled him and brought him into a crushing embrace.

"What the hell, Sarah," he managed to get out, his face muffled by her shirt.

"You're okay," she said, pulling back with a wide smile.

"Um, yeah, I'm fine. Actually, I'm more worried about you. What happened? You didn't fall through the floor too, did you?" Sarah looked down at herself and noticed she was no longer in her ragged dress, but back in her comfortable shirt and jeans. However, she was covered in dust and dirt from head to toe, and noticed scrapes on her arms she hadn't felt before. "And what's that in your hand? Is that a mask? Did you find that here?" Still held firmly in her fist was the Goblin King's mask. It hadn't disappeared with her outfit, just like the cuts hadn't. A reminder or a cruel joke—probably both.

"Hey, buddy," she scolded, while poking him in the chest, "I'm the one who should be asking the questions. What are doing in this place? Your friend was just in the hospital after getting hurt in here."

"How did you know about Tyler?"

"Karen called," she said, smacking him upside the head. "She said not to worry about you though. That you were more responsible and knew better than to come in here." Toby had the decency to look shamefaced.

"I wasn't going to at first," he told her as they started down the stairs and over the railing. "But this older guy kept calling Tyler a wimp, and we kind of got into it." Sarah gave him a look of surprise, but he only shook his head at her. "Nothing physical. We started yelling at each other and then he dared me in front of a lot of people to go into the house." He trailed off letting Sarah come to her own conclusions about the rest of the story. It wasn't hard. Toby obviously didn't want to cower in front of a bully, which she could relate to, and he ended up coming in here to prove himself.

Well, at least she knew now what had been bothering him so much.

"This why you've been so distant with everyone lately, huh?"

Toby shrugged in response. "I guess."

They walked out of the house and down the porch to her car, which still waiting for her by the curb.

"Look, Toby," she began carefully, "I don't really have any business getting onto you about this, but you should have told that guy to fuck off." Her statement caught him off guard. He never heard her cuss so blatantly around him. "He's a bully, plain and simple. And you never give into bullies no matter what. Coming into this house was a mistake. Not just because Karen would be angry with you or you might have gotten hurt—which are both good reasons, don't get me wrong—but because when you came here, you gave into him. You let him manipulate you. Don't let people get the better of you, okay?"

Toby smiled at her. "Thanks sis."

They both hopped into the car and Sarah put the key into the ignition, ready to put this whole day behind her.

"Oh, by the way," she said, pausing, "next time you're going to be late, call me. That way I know where you are if something happens, and if Karen calls, I can cover for you."

"What do you mean? I'm not even late. I came straight here after school. I was only going to be a few minutes and then you showed up." Sarah peered at him, wondering why he would lie so blatantly after everything. But when she glanced at the clock, she understood he was telling the truth. The dashboard showed it was four o' clock. That was impossible. She had gone in the house only a little before four. She couldn't say how long she had been wandering in there, but there was no way she'd been in there for only a few minutes. It had felt like days.

"Hey, you all right?" Toby's voice cut through her thoughts, bringing her back to the present.

"Yeah, I'm fine. I just thought we had been in there a lot longer. Don't want Karen to freak. I told her you'd be home soon when she called."

"Just call her from your cell."

"Don't you know anything little brother," she teased. "Your mom will get suspicious if we don't call her from the home line, and she'll probably be able to hear the car if we call her on the cell. It'll take only take a minute to get home, and then we can pretend like none of this ever happened." Toby sent her a grateful smile, but it wavered as his eyes shifted to her hands.

"Why are you still holding onto that thing? You know, you never told me where you got it. Did you find it in the Mason House?" Sarah didn't realize she was still holding onto the mask. She had been carrying it this whole time, never letting go since she first found it. "It's kinda creepy looking," Toby said, wrinkling his nose. "What do you plan on doing with it?"

Sarah examined the mask thoughtfully, and then turned to her brother with a smile.

"Not a thing."

She tossed the mask in the backseat of the jeep, which was crowded with emptied bags from fast food runs and old notebooks from school. Toby noticed it missing after Sarah bribed him to clean out her car one summer afternoon. It had been moved to a box, wrapped in old clothes, under a bed, upstairs in a house and that's where it stayed, gathering no dust and fading forever from memory.

* * *

**A/N: **This was my first fanfic, so to all who reviewed, followed, and favorited, it was much appreciated.

A special thanks to **Nonsuch** for giving part 2 a good once over, the lovely compliments, and especially the advice.

I hope everyone who read this enjoyed it. I certainly enjoyed writing it.

**A little fun fact:** Some of the doors lead to specific places (i.e. different realities and dimensions from other stories)

Like the little round green door from part 1 leads to Bilbo's House, and the ice door leads to Jotunheim, so if you've seen Thor, you have a pretty good idea of what the monster looks like.

Doors from pt 2:

- The Queen of Hearts playing card leads to Wonderland, specifically the Queen's castle

- The wolf head leads to the stomach of the wolf from _Little Red Riding Hood_

- The one made of gold leads to heaven, and its design is based on Ghiberti's _Gates of Paradise_ in Florence, and its counterpart leads to hell and is based off Rodin's sculpture, _Gates of Hell_

- The door of fur leads to Iota Geminorum IV and those were tribbles she saw

- The door made of candies lead to the witches cottage in_ Hansel and Gretel_

- And finally, if it wasn't obvious enough for you, the crystal door lead to her crystal ball dream, not the Labyrinth.

The rest just lead to random pubs, parallel worlds, and the odd pocket universe.


End file.
